


In Winter Enjoy

by fiendlikequeen



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Sharing Body Heat, absolutely zero angst here folks, and for roundabout mentions of jfj's dick, just the lads cuddling, rated t for extremely minor cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiendlikequeen/pseuds/fiendlikequeen
Summary: Returning home on a winter evening, James finds himself in need of some warmth. Luckily, Francis can provide.Bingo fill: "next to impossible"
Relationships: Francis Crozier/James Fitzjames
Comments: 24
Kudos: 80
Collections: The Terror Bingo





	In Winter Enjoy

**Author's Note:**

> Just fluffy cuddles here, folks! What it says on the tin. No smut.
> 
> Title from Blake - he would, no doubt, be offended by my extremely trite and disrespectful use of his poetry. To this I say: get rekt, William.

The sheets are frigid when James slips between them. When Francis rolls over and away from him - with a muffled and sleepy expletive - James slides into the warm patch Francis leaves behind. It is a wonderful, radiating warmth, and James shudders into it quite gratefully.

James is, however, more desirous of the source of that heat than of its leavings. He eyes Francis's blanketed form. Grins - rather mischievously, he thinks, a shame that he has no audience for such a winning expression - and wriggles closer. When he receives no grunted complaint for it, he shuffles closer still. The moment he makes the barest contact with Francis's body, he groans aloud. Francis is all warmth, every part of him. If James could he would sink into him, vanish into that embracing and all-encompassing heat.

This, however, gets him a complaint.

"Wh-" Francis doesn't even manage a whole word.

"Good evening, Francis." James has managed to press himself flush with Francis's back, close as flesh will allow.

"What are you-"

"Taking advice from a former captain. 'Two to a sack,' he recommended. Sound idea. Quite a canny old bird he was. Nearly made up for his being a humourless boor-"

"You're _freezing_."

James noses his way into Francis's hair. Francis's neck is almost blazingly hot when it meets James's icy cheek. "Mmm. And you're not."

"I will be, if you - James!"

James has put one arm over Francis to place one hand at Francis's breast. He may also have fondled Francis's soft, strong chest on the way, too. He can feel Francis's heart thudding under his palm. Already his fingers feel less like icicles and more like digits, but still he presses closer.

Francis gives his customary grunt even as he lifts a hand of his own to clasp James's. His broad palm eclipses James's slenderer one. 

"Warm," James affirms, hooking one knee behind Francis's. He gives a happy sigh into Francis's hair, breathing deep the scent of him.

"Get a hot water bottle instead."

"No," pronounces James, quite contentedly, "I don't think I shall."

At this, he lifts one leg high enough to press his toes to Francis's shin, chuckling when Francis yelps a protest. 

"Christ," hisses Francis, as he tries - with a nearly believable indignation, for he is still pressing James's hand to his breast - to squirm out of James's clutches. "Your toes are like fucking ice-"

"Ah, yes. For a moment there you had nearly let me forget that you are a - how did you put it, once? An 'arctic veteran', that's it. I suppose I must surrender to you the more fulsome understanding of _fucking ice-"_

Francis's retort is a string of colourful invective and a more genuine attempt to get away; however, tangled up as he is in James's embrace, he succeeds only in rolling halfway onto his belly and pulling James half atop him.

James presses a kiss to his wriggling beloved's cheek. With a cloying fondness that almost threatens to sicken him he delights in telling Francis: "I assure you that there will be no escape from this. You are beset on all sides. Quite frozen in – freeing yourself will be next to impossible."

Francis huffs. “Yes, I am certainly next to _impossible_ ,” he returns, aiming a half-hearted smack at James’s thigh.

James is about to make some very witty and cutting remark, but Francis, warm and hale and whole and in his arms, the smell of his hair and his damned _squirming,_ has had the effect of sending heat rushing toward more southerly latitudes _._

"I suppose,” says Francis, after a moment, “that you'll be wanting me to warm that for you, too."

James hides his grin in Francis's hair. "If you would."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a corner of Francis’s mouth lift as he reaches back to take James in hand.


End file.
